A Life Half Lived
by Madilayn
Summary: Morgan Winter is an Auror. She is not at all pleased when for her next mission she has to pose as the lover of one Severus Snape. To make things worse, she finds herself very attracted to him. Is it only a matter of time before fiction becomes fact? S
1. Default Chapter

AUTHORS NOTES  
  
A Life Half Lived is the second book in the trilogy of the de Lisle sisters. Book one - Once in a Blue Moon - introduced you to the middle sister, Pilar.  
  
In this book, you meet the youngest sister - Morgan.  
  
The title of this book comes from the movie "Strictly Ballroom" where a Spainish proverb is quoted: "A life lived in fear is a life half lived". This is a theme for this movie, and it also seemed to be quite apt for the couple in this book.  
  
Morgan's life has been tough, and she has hidden her hurt underneath a brash exterior.  
  
This has worked successfully until now, when she meets and has to work with Severus Snape.  
  
His own life has been pretty hellish, and his hurt has been hidden underneath the exterior of a complete and utter bastard.  
  
For both of them, their lives are lived in the fear that the pain from their past will overwhelm them.  
  
Sexual tension, intrigue and misunderstandings abound as these two discover that "A life lived in fear is a life half lived".  
  
Reviews and e-mails are quite welcome! 


	2. Sex on Legs

CHAPTER 1  
  
Sirius Black walked down Diagon Alley with his godson, Harry Potter - busy getting books for Harry's last year at Hogwarts.  
  
As they walked, a woman walking past caught Sirius' eye and he stopped, appreciating the view.  
  
Harry walked a couple of paces further before he noticed, and turned back to his godfather. Sirius was still staring at the woman, and as Harry came up to him, he put is hand on Harry's shoulder. "That, Harry," he said in the manner of one instructing a student, "is what I call Sex on Legs."  
  
Harry looked at the woman who had stopped nearby and was looking in the window of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour - clearly deciding whether she should go in or not.  
  
She was dressed plainly - a dark coat and boots were all that were visible. He couldn't see what was underneath the coat - it reached the top of her boots - but it was definitely tight, whatever it was. Her coat was snug around her rear and hips. Her hair was bright red and seemed to be wildly tousled. She turned around and Harry gulped - suddenly realising that Sirius had done the same thing.  
  
It looked like the coat and boots were actually all she was wearing!  
  
Her face seemed oddly familiar to them both. She looked straight at Sirius - obviously having heard the remark, and obviously pleased. She winked at them and brought her hand up slowly to her mouth, blowing them a kiss.  
  
With an abruptness that had them both reeling, the woman suddenly moved towards them, her stride long and loose-hipped. Sirius straightened - this was his kind of woman!  
  
She glanced at them as she passed, and winked again. Harry and Sirius turned to watch where she was going - neither wanted to loose that pleasant sight - and were surprised when she went up behind a blond boy and woman, and poked the boy in the ribs.  
  
He jumped, and both of them turned around. "Aunt Morgan!" he cried, with every evidence of delight as she wrapped her arms around him.  
  
"How's my favourite nephew?" they heard her ask.  
  
"I happen to be your only nephew," said Draco Malfoy - clearly enjoying the experience of being hugged by his definitely sexy aunt.  
  
""Cis!" cried the woman, hugging and being hugged by Mrs Malfoy who, although plainly surprised to see her, was just as obviously pleased - at least that was the expression on her face.  
  
Harry and Sirius moved off - both deeply disgusted. "Malfoy!" said Harry indignantly. "What right has he got to have an aunt like that?"  
  
Sirius looked back - and agreed with Harry completely. "I wonder if Pilar can tell us more," he said. "I've never heard of Lucius Malfoy having a sister - let alone one looking like that - but she should know."  
  
"Where are we meeting them?" asked Harry  
  
"You were supposed to meet us inside Fortescue's," said a voice behind them sounding a little irritated, "about an hour ago."  
  
"Hello Remus," said Sirius - his attention still focused on the redheaded woman with the Malfoys.  
  
Remus Lupin followed his gaze and nodded. "Distracted, Padfoot?" he asked wryly.  
  
Black grinned - he'd never really been serious about any woman in his life, not even Pilar, even though he loved her dearly. This one looked more interesting than most though - and he was willing to overlook her connections with Lucius Malfoy for a bit of fun.  
  
At that point, Narcissa Malfoy saw Remus and came over, dragging the woman with her. "Remus," she said coldly, "is Pilar here?"  
  
"Inside," he said - nodding towards the ice cream parlour, "stuffing chocolate sundae's down her throat as fast as she can." He looked shy, proud, and indulgent all at once, "Pilar says that she seems to crave chocolate even more since she's became pregnant."  
  
The red headed woman laughed, "Sounds like something P would do," she said and looked at the woman next to her, "shall we join her?"  
  
Narcissa Malfoy was in a dilemma. She wanted very much to see her sister - but knew that Lucius would be annoyed at her for spending time with her sister's husband and his friends. The redheaded woman looked at Harry and at the bag he was carrying. "This must be a school chum of Draco's," she said. "I'm sure that the boys would appreciate something - my treat."  
  
Draco came over, glaring at both Harry and Sirius. Morgan saw the looks between all of them and decided she had to get to the bottom of this - after she had the reunion with her sisters, and found out more about that absolutely gorgeous man!  
  
She walked towards the entrance, her arm in Narcissa's. She looked back over her shoulder and cocked her hips. "Coming?" she asked, swiping her lips with her tongue, knowing that it was corny to do so, but being completely unable to resist teasing the males standing there.  
  
Harry was startled - he had never come across any woman like that - and he suddenly realised something. In many ways, she was a female Sirius - flirting with anything of the opposite sex, and exuding a sexuality that was palpable.  
  
Sirius realised it too, and walked towards the woman, putting his hand on her backside familiarly. "I'd love something wet," he said looking at her, and knowing that the sudden flare of lust in her eyes was matched by his.  
  
"I bet you would," she said dryly, removing his hand and continuing in. "Come on Draco," she called, "bring your friend and order what you want."  
  
Inside the ice cream parlour, everybody was edified to see Pilar Lupin suddenly give a screech, jump up and run (ok - waddle swiftly) towards the redheaded woman, arms open and face alight with joy.  
  
Both women hugged each other tightly. "Morgan!" cried Pilar, "Morgan when did you get here?"  
  
Morgan hugged Pilar tightly. It had been too long since she had seen her. "This morning, P," she said, "and I was planning on visiting tomorrow to see how you were."  
  
The silence in the party was like a bombshell. Sirius, Harry and Lupin looked at each other. THIS was Pilar's "baby sister"? This woman who not only looked nothing like Pilar - but who oozed sex?  
  
Pilar turned around gaily "Remus, this is Morgan Winter - my other sister," she said. "Morgan, my husband."  
  
Morgan Winter inspected Lupin closely. He was certainly not what she had expected, and recognised that this gentle looking man was a lot more dangerous than he appeared. Her sister must love him dearly if she had held him in her heart for so many years.  
  
Lupin met her steady gaze - and recognised another female de Lisle predator. But this one was far more dangerous than her sister. Whereas Pilar tended only to become predatory when crossed, this one was always on the prowl. "Nice to meet you," he said, shaking her hand - and then being pulled into a swift laughing embrace.  
  
"Hello Remus," she said warmly - pleased that after so many years her sister had found happiness.  
  
"And Morgan," continued Pilar, "you must meet Sirius Black and Harry Potter."  
  
Sirius stepped forward "Yes, you certainly must meet Sirius Black," he said, taking her hand and raising it to his lips.  
  
Morgan accepted the kiss, knowing what the outcome of her meeting with him would be, and looking forward to the liaison - short though she knew it would be. "Deeelighted," she purred and turned away from him deliberately.  
  
So this was Sirius Black, she thought, the prisoner they had been ordered not to take. God he was gorgeous! She could hardly wait.  
  
"Hello, Harry," she said - to a stunned Harry standing there with Draco (who looked even more chagrined than before). "Nice to meet you. You're at school with Draco?"  
  
"Yes," said Harry, shaking her hand. She was nothing like his Aunt Petunia - and he envied Draco his family - at least he had a mother and father, and at least one Aunt who obviously doted on him.  
  
He had never asked Pilar about the Malfoys and her relationship with them, and it was one of the few areas she never spoke of. He looked at Pilar and caught her looking at him. She smiled and sat back down awkwardly. Harry knew that she was enjoying this hugely - and remembered Draco's reaction when he had found out she was his long-lost Aunt.  
  
He began to chuckle and caught Pilar's eye. She was looking abnormally demure, and he noticed Lupin bend over to her and whisper something in her ear. She jumped slightly and he wondered what had passed between them.  
  
And wondered if his parents had been like that too.  
  
Draco Malfoy was annoyed. It had been bad enough when he had been told that Professor de Lisle was his Aunt - bad enough he had had to attend her wedding to that werewolf.  
  
But now he was expected to sit and play happy families with them.  
  
He glared at his mother and Aunt Morgan. He knew his mother was hoping his father did not find out about this - and the thought of what would happen if he did find out made him afraid.  
  
Draco was frightened of only two people - his Father and Professor Dumbledore. He believed many of the same things that his father did, but was starting to feel that being a DeathEater was not a course that he would be content to follow.  
  
Draco Malfoy was growing up quickly - and as he sat and ate his ice cream he realised that at home the chatter and laughter that was within this group was missing.  
  
He watched his mother with her two younger sisters, and saw that she seemed different - more alive, more vivid. Her personality was emerging from underneath her normally cold façade. He was surprised to find that it seemed to be much the same as those of her sisters.  
  
He shuddered. His Aunt Morgan never seemed to sit still, and he knew what his Aunt Pilar was like from being one of her students. Imagine if his mother was more like them! His eyes widened suddenly. She must have been - at some stage. And he wondered what had happened to make her the cold and distant woman she was now.  
  
He watched Lupin and Pilar and envied his soon to be arriving baby cousin - and Harry who had been welcomed into their family. Draco would never admit it to anybody - but there was one area in which he envied Harry Potter.  
  
He envied that Harry was living with people who obviously cared for him. He felt envious that his Aunt Pilar treated Harry like a nephew, and he wanted more than anything to be included in something like that.  
  
Draco looked at his mother - and saw that she was torn between being Narcissa Malfoy and Narcissa de Lisle. He looked over at his Aunts, and watched Lupin put his arm around Pilar, his other hand caressing her womb - caressing his child - and at Pilar's obvious enjoyment of the public caress (did they have no control?). And Draco Malfoy, for the first time in his life, wondered if his parents had ever been in love like that. 


	3. An Uneasy Alliance

CHAPTER 2  
  
Morgan awoke beside the black haired man the next morning. She stretched, feeling her muscles creak.  
  
It had been one of the most enjoyable encounters she had ever had, and had to admit that Sirius Black's reputation was well deserved. His years in Azkaban had seemed to have no effect on his skills as a lover.  
  
She left the man sleeping and went into the bathroom for a shower. She had received a call to report to work that morning, and knew that they would not accept oversleeping as an excuse.  
  
As she came out of the bathroom, she saw Sirius sitting up in bed looking at her. "Nice night," he said.  
  
"Very," she responded. "I had fun."  
  
"Do you mind if I have a shower?" he asked. She shook her head and watched him walk naked into the bathroom. As he passed her, he swung her into an embrace and kissed her, his tongue sliding over hers and she felt herself being swept into the passion.  
  
Morgan regretfully pushed herself away. "No time," she said regretfully - kissing his jaw line.  
  
He recommenced walking to the bathroom and her mouth went dry. "Pity," was all he said.  
  
She gave herself a quick shake, muttering "damn straight," and quickly got dressed, sitting down at her dressing table to apply her makeup.  
  
When she was finished, she had turned into the woman Sirius had admired the previous day.  
  
He came out of the bathroom fully dressed and nodded in her direction. "Sex on legs," he said laughingly. "Have you got any messages for Pilar?"  
  
"Tell her I love her," she said, "and that I can't wait for the baby to be born. I'm sorry I can't visit today, but work calls. I'll phone her tonight. Oh - and I hope the house is okay."  
  
Black grinned. "You should hear Pilar on the subject of the baby. She says that she's sick of looking like a whale, and wants more than anything to be able to see her feet again."  
  
Morgan laughed. "And I bet half the time she's cursing Remus for getting her into that condition."  
  
"Yup - and then he'll kiss her and she seems to forget that's the start of how she got into that condition in the first place." Black looked regretful for a moment. Deep in his heart, he wished he had what his friend Remus did. He wished he had found somebody to share his life with, to be as deeply in love as Pilar and Remus. He wanted the sort of love his best friends Remus and James shared with their wives. Even with the heartache it seemed to bring - that sort of love must be wonderful.  
  
Morgan saw the look, and had no idea that her own face mirrored it. Deep in her heart, she wanted to be loved and cherished like her older sister. She recalled her own hell of a marriage and vowed she would never be used like that again.  
  
"As for the house," he continued, "both of them are overwhelmed. You don't mind if Harry and I are living there too?"  
  
"Of course not. That was one of the reasons I offered it. That, and I definitely don't ever want to live there alone. Has the name "The Den" stuck?"  
  
Sirius laughed. "Yup. And our revered Pack Leader is already putting his stamp on everything."  
  
Morgan looked serious. "You know, I would have picked you to be the stronger of that friendship. But Remus is a lot stronger than he appears."  
  
"Much. He's had a lot to live with - and it's made him a very strong person."  
  
"And he loves P so much - I can't believe that they are both finally happy again," she said.  
  
"Did you know what happened?" asked Sirius.  
  
"You are all six years older than me! I was still at school when it all happened. The first I knew was that P wasn't getting married - that she was going to America and had no idea when she would be back. And I didn't even get that from P - but from Dumbledore."  
  
"They say that they've told me everything," said Sirius, "but I can't help feeling that there is something else they are still keeping a secret."  
  
Morgan shrugged. "They'll tell in good time," she said, "but what matters is they are happy now."  
  
They went into the kitchen and chatted over a quick breakfast, separating on the doorstep of the entrance to the apartment block with a quick kiss. "See you," said Sirius, loping off.  
  
Morgan went down to the garage and got into her car for the drive to New Scotland Yard. She parked it and showed her card to the officer on duty, quickly going through the maze of corridors.  
  
Coming to a non-descript door, she took out her wand and raised it, chanting the incantation that identified her and allowed her entry into the area occupied by the Aurors.  
  
As she did, she wondered what citizens of both worlds would say if they knew how intermeshed the Aurors and the Muggle Police were.  
  
Inside was a peculiar mix of Muggle and magic. Telephones were ringing, and computers were on each desk. Morgan made herself a cup of coffee and sat down at her desk - looking with distaste at the mound of paperwork she had to complete. It was always the same. She'd come back after a mission, and there was always the inevitable mound of paperwork waiting for her.  
  
She turned on her computer and checked her e-mail, and then checked the magical messages on her desk.  
  
Only one was important- from the Head of the Aurors. It was a statement that she had a meeting with him at 9.30. She checked her watch - and stood. She really had overslept!  
  
It was 9.45 as she knocked at the door and was told to come in. She entered. He snarled at her "You're late, Winter," he said. "I had hoped to brief you before this meeting but we've no time. Go to Conference room 3 - I'll be there when I've had our guests passed through."  
  
Morgan was intrigued - obviously she was to find out her next mission - and obviously she would be working with both police and non-Aurors on it.  
  
She headed into Conference Room 3 and nodded a greeting to the other occupants - Muggle Detectives she had worked with before.  
  
She sat down and stretched out, wincing slightly as muscles that had been thoroughly worked the night before resisted.  
  
One of the detectives looked at her knowingly. "Busy night, Morgan?" he asked. She looked at him and poked her tongue out.  
  
"None of your damn business," she said sitting up as the door opened.  
  
Her superior walked in, behind him were two people who she would never have expected to see in this particular place.  
  
Professor Dumbledore - her old headmaster, and another man who she even more surprised to see. Severus Snape.  
  
They took their places at the table - looking wildly out of place in their robes. She saw that Snape looked as sour and as unpleasant as ever and had a slightly superior look on his face - as though these policemen could never hope to compete with him.  
  
"Right," said the Auror standing. "I won't bother to introduce everybody to you Professors. The less you know about them, the safer it will be. However, I will introduce to you Auror Morgan Winter, who will be in charge of this operation."  
  
Dumbledore nodded towards Morgan. "I have known Morgana for many years," he said. "It is very nice to see you again."  
  
"Nice to see you as well, Headmaster," she said, and nodded towards Snape. "Professor Snape," she acknowledged.  
  
"These are Professors Dumbledore and Snape, who will be working closely with us. Professor Snape will be working directly with Morgan in this operation."  
  
Snape looked startled - as did Morgan. Both thinking the same thing - How?  
  
"From events in the past year and a bit we know that Voldemort has been recruiting from outside his normal Wizarding low-lives. We know that Lucius Malfoy has been helping him - and we have finally managed to track down the main Muggle contact."  
  
He nodded towards Morgan. "This is the man who is responsible for the attack in which your sister was nearly killed."  
  
Morgan sat up straighter. "And I get to go after him?" she asked.  
  
"Not just yet," said the senior Muggle Detective. "The idea is to try to get as much information as we can on him, so that we can not only get him, but get enough evidence to convict everybody in the ring. Wizard and Muggle."  
  
Morgan chuckled. "Michael, I had no idea you knew that word," she said.  
  
He snorted. "It's a bit of an open secret. If you people listened more you'd know that." He pressed a button, and a picture appeared on a screen behind him. "This is our target. His name is Alexander Hawden. He is well known in both business and social worlds, and on the surface he seems to be an independently wealthy dilettante - in fact he's using the same cover you do, Morgan. In actuality, he's a criminal mastermind who makes his money from drugs - selling to both Muggles and Wizards - money laundering and prostitution."  
  
"The reason we want you in on this, Morgan, is that you move in the same social circles as him - and will find it easiest to get close to him."  
  
The head Auror took up the story. "Professor Snape will pose as your latest lover. Making sure to spread the word that he is a Potions expert - and that he is heavily involved in the Dark Arts." He looked at Snape. "Professor, you will also have to keep the masquerade up that you are a DeathEater. For this oppo to work everybody must believe that both you and Morgan are totally involved - to the point where she will actually do anything you want." There was laughter around the table at this. These people knew Morgan, and knew that getting her to do anything against her will was something of a Herculean task.  
  
"They must believe that you can be persuaded to use your skills with Potions to brew some of their most deadly and addictive concoctions."  
  
Morgan looked serious. "I take it we will have backup," she said. "Who will they be - and how will we contact them?"  
  
All three of the senior people in the room looked troubled. "That, Morgan, is something we cannot tell you. You will have backup. But we cannot tell you who they are. Nor will you be able to contact them directly." The Auror looked even more uncomfortable. "In addition, Morgan, for the duration of this oppo, we will need your Warrant Card."  
  
"My Card? Just how deep undercover will we be, Sir?" she asked, "And just how much danger will there be?"  
  
"Very deep. Very much. There must be nothing that will lead them to suspect you. We've taken the opportunity of arranging for a new mobile phone for you just in case."  
  
Morgan took a deep breath and looked at Snape. It was obvious to her that he had no idea of the full implications of the conversation that had just taken place.  
  
"Have you explained exactly to Professor Snape the risks that will be involved in this?"  
  
"I have, Morgana," said Dumbledore, "and he is well aware of the risks, and also of the importance of what we are asking you to do."  
  
Morgan stood up and strolled around the room - all the male eyes on her as she did so. She stopped next to Snape. "Stand up" she snapped, and hauled on his shoulder. He stood, looking down at her - surprised that she was as short as she was - her head only reached his shoulder. He met her eyes and realised that she may not be very tall, but she had an aura of power around her, and a presence that was palpable.  
  
Snape was shocked as he realised that beneath the exterior that was all fluff and sex appeal, he may be looking at one of the most powerful witches alive.  
  
She pulled him away from the table and walked around him, looking him up and down. "I'm going to need some time to prepare him," she said. "New hairstyle, new clothing."  
  
"And what is wrong with my hair and clothing?" asked Snape haughtily.  
  
"Frankly," she said, "nobody would ever believe that you were my latest lover. And there is a certain look that is expected in the circles in which we will be moving. One in which you do not fit in now."  
  
"Morgan," said the Auror, "please remember we're on a budget here"  
  
"Well, it's that or nothing," she said, "and I think you'll agree with me that he needs to be changed if this will work."  
  
The Auror growled. He hated it when she was right, and he hated it even more when he had to give her permission to spend money. "Don't spend too much," he said, "and keep the receipts."  
  
With that, he pushed two heavy folders towards them. "This is the file - everything you need to know is in here. We've gotten you invitations to the charity Art Display tomorrow night that the target is holding. Make contact there, and nose around. Integrate into the social life and get invited to everything he does."  
  
Morgan was leafing through the file. "I know that Do tomorrow - in fact I've been invited myself," she said absently. She looked up suddenly. "So, Professor, I assume you have some luggage?"  
  
He looked surprised. "Luggage?" he said.  
  
"You know - clothes? "  
  
"Why would I need clothes?" he asked.  
  
"To play the part of my lover - my lover for whom I would do anything - you are going to have to share my apartment. For that - you will need clothing. Unless you intend to stroll around naked."  
  
Snape looked startled. He had not realised that he would be living in London during this time. In fact he had thought that he would be staying at Hogwarts and just apparating in when necessary. He voiced this thought.  
  
"Not going to work," said Morgan flatly. "You have absolutely no idea how this social world works. There are functions we will be attending during the day as well as in the evening. People are going to expect us to be turning up as a couple at all times - and encountering us in fashionable places. In addition, we will need to do some research - and we cannot do that with me in London and you at Hogwarts," she paused before she resumed. "There is one other reason - you are well known. Wizards I introduce you to will know where you work. As it's summer holidays, they will expect you to be with me. Once school resumes, your absence will not be questioned. It will, however, at this point in time."  
  
She turned to her boss. "Is there absolutely nobody else we could use?" she asked, glancing at Snape as she did so. "Preferably somebody who has some clue?"  
  
"Sorry, Morgan. Professor Snape has the background to help you best. Remember, he's been a DeathEater and is suspected to be "dark" - if not still a DeathEater."  
  
She sighed and looked at Snape. "I've certainly got my work cut out for me" she said, and sat down in a chair. 


	4. Piers of The Wandering Hands

Snape stalked along behind Morgan Winter. The woman was definitely the most irritating person he had ever met, and if he could just get his hormones under control he would be much happier.  
  
He scowled; surely wearing a cushion cover as a skirt was considered illegal in the Muggle world? He hoped, and didn't hope, that she wouldn't have to bend over.  
  
She stopped at one of the security doors and looked at him. "Stop scowling, Prof....erm. Severus," she said severely. "This is none of my doing and we are both going to have to live with it. With a little bit of luck, this won't take too long and we will never have to see each other again."  
  
Unknowingly, both Morgan and Snape wore matching frowns. Both were feeling uncomfortable about her remark.  
  
Snape was scowling again by the time they reached her car. "We have to travel in that thing?" he asked  
  
"You have the option of walking," she snapped, "and it's a bit far to do that. Besides, I can't leave the car here. Now get in, put the seatbelt on, and shut up."  
  
He gingerly climbed in, it was only the second time he had ever travelled in a car, and hoped it was less hair-raising than his first experience.  
  
As the Jag purred through London, Severus relaxed into the deep leather seats. It wasn't bad, and he could feel himself beginning to enjoy this mode of travel.  
  
All of a sudden, Morgan pulled into a side alley and a man in a doorman's uniform greeted them.  
  
"Mrs Winter," he said, "so nice to see you after all this time"  
  
"Hello George," she said, climbing out of the car and handing him the keys. She looked down at Snape still sitting in the front seat. "We're here and you can't stay there, because it's for your benefit that we are here," she said cryptically, making him wonder exactly what the hell she was talking about.  
  
Slowly, Snape got out of the car. What torture did she have in mind for him?  
  
An hour later, he knew. And he had the distinct feeling that beneath the surface, she was laughing at him.  
  
He'd been poked and prodded, his hair washed and trimmed. Morgan had stopped them from cutting too much off; saying she actually liked him with it long, and had surprised herself in doing so. She had intended to turn him into the ultra-fashionable type of man she was usually seen with.  
  
The man with her (he thought that she'd called him Piers?) had argued, but she had her way, and now it was pulled back in a que. He scowled again. He hadn't worn his hair this way for years.  
  
He felt uncomfortable. His lank hair had become somewhat of a camouflage mechanism, and he started to feel as if his soul was being bared to the world.  
  
Things only got worse after the hair. He had been taken into a small room and ordered to strip. On asking why, Piers had told him they needed measurements, and that Mrs Winter had ordered them to outfit him from the skin out.  
  
He had actually blushed at the measuring process- and had been uncomfortable at the way Piers' hands seemed to linger on his body - quite intentionally.  
  
"Err, Morgan," he called, moving away from Piers' wandering hands, "can you come here a second?" completely forgetting just how little he was wearing and not actually caring. The most important thing was that he was not left alone with Piers of the Wandering Hands.  
  
Morgan walked towards the room, wondering what the problem was. Surely he was not arguing about the clothes. Piers had said that his previous dress, black trousers and coat over a white shirt, suited him. If only it was in decent fabric and actually fitted.  
  
She stepped into the fitting room and saw Severus Snape naked except for his (she had to admit, rather skimpy) underwear pressed up against the mirror as Piers was saying he had to double check his inner leg measurements.  
  
Morgan's mouth went dry as she was presented with a clear view of the man in front of her. His body was almost as nice as that of Sirius! She had the insane urge to grab the tape measure from Piers and do some measuring of her own!  
  
Now was not, however, the time for play, and she recognised the genuine note of terror in Snape's voice. Her lips twitched as she saw the humour in the situation.  
  
"Piers," she said gently, "hands off. He's mine."  
  
Piers turned around. "No harm in trying, surely, Mrs Winter," he said sulkily, "after all, one never knows."  
  
"No, Piers. One never does. But try anything like that on something of mine again, and I assure you that you will not have to worry about knowing."  
  
Piers pouted. It had been worth a try, he had thought that Mrs Winter and this man were not involved, but obviously he was wrong. After all, he would have had to be blind to have missed the man's reaction to her when she walked into the room!  
  
"Clothing for the Professor, Piers. Now," commanded Morgan, opening the door and firmly ushering him out.  
  
Piers looked sulky as he was ejected from the room. He went over to the clothes stand, selecting several pairs of trousers, coats and shirts. He couldn't help wondering what was going on inside, and hoped that the pair inside would keep things marginally decent. Sighing regretfully, he opened the door, clothes in hand.  
  
He was surprised to find the two in the same positions they had been before he left, but noticed also, that both were breathing heavily.  
  
"Here we are," he said gaily, and watched with interest as the man before him dressed.  
  
Morgan took a breath as Piers entered. If he put some clothes, on she would be able to see him as Snape. Not the hard muscled man in front of her. Idly she wondered what he was like as a lover- and started to imagine those long elegant fingers on her body.  
  
Oh god. I have to stop this she thought. Regretfully, she watched him dress and surprised herself by discovering that, dressed in clothing that actually fitted him, she found him even more desirable than he had previously been.  
  
This operation might be even more enjoyable than she had initially thought. 


	5. Of Potions and Satay

CHAPTER 4  
  
She'd left him abruptly, saying she had things to do, tossing him a piece of paper with her address on it and telling him to meet her there when he had collected his luggage. Snape had returned to Hogwarts and packed a small bag - not much clothing - but he did have a few personal things he liked to have around him.  
  
He checked the slip of paper with the address on it as he walked up the street. He'd never actually been in this part of London before, but was taking to it nicely. The buildings in Docklands were modern, nothing like the slums he had been told about. Their clean lines appealed to something in him.  
  
He entered the building. Oh Gods - a lift. He tried to remember how to work one.  
  
Finally, he managed it and made it to the top floor, feeling a touch of vertigo hit him as he got out of the lift. She just had to be on the top floor.  
  
He found the right door, a card in a brass holder bearing only the legend "Winter". He smiled briefly, wondering if he looked he would find "Summer", "Autumn" and "Spring" somewhere. He also wondered why he seemed to feel he should know her. There was something elusively familiar about her.  
  
He saw the small button on the door and ignored it, opting to knock instead.  
  
He knocked again and heard a voice from inside. The door was opened and he saw Morgan in front of him.  
  
The elegant woman he had met earlier was gone. This one had a mane of long red curls pulled back in a messy ponytail and was wearing an old shirt and a pair of disreputable jeans.  
  
"Come in," she snapped and ran back towards a tiny cauldron. The jeans were torn in some very interesting places, he noted.  
  
His years as a Potions Master had made him sensitive to the ingredients used in potions, and his nostrils flared as he smelled the acrid scent - what on earth was she doing with THOSE ingredients? He wondered. He watched her measure some of the mixture into a glass, raising it to her lips.  
  
Was she trying to kill herself? Snape dropped his case and ran forward, knocking the cauldron off the flame and grabbing the glass, tipping the contents down the sink.  
  
Morgan let out a scream of fury and turned on him. "What the hell did you do that for?" she screamed. "Now I've got to start all over again!"  
  
"You stupid girl! That particular potion is highly dangerous and not one I would ever recommend anybody use," he snarled, as angry as she was.  
  
Morgan looked surprised. "It's a simple contraceptive potion," she said. "I've been using it since I was sixteen! And never a side effect might I add."  
  
"And what happens if you don't take it every day?" he asked. Hoping the answer wouldn't be the one he was dreading.  
  
Morgan blushed. "None of your fucking business," she growled.  
  
"On the contrary, Mrs Winter, potions are my business. Now an answer if you please." He stood in her kitchen, arms folded, his eyes never leaving her face, a pose that any of his students would instantly recognise.  
  
Oh god, thought Morgan. I feel like one of his students again! She tried to look him in the eye and found that she could not. Damn, her school days had ended in 1983! She was an adult and should be able to look this man in the eye and tell him to go to hell for his intrusive question. But she couldn't. She knew the look in his eyes; had seen it once before in one of his classes when a student had managed to brew a particularly potent poison by mistake. Anger - and concern.  
  
She also knew the answer to his question, and in her heart dreaded it. For him to look like that, there must be something very wrong with the potion.  
  
"I get cramps," she whispered, "the most horrible cramps. And I bleed. For days, sometimes weeks."  
  
Snape felt his stomach constrict. Whoever had deceived this woman into thinking that potion was harmless should be killed. Preferably using Avada Kedavra after being forced to drink some of the more nasty potions he knew how to brew. How was he going to tell her? He watched her, watched a tear roll down her face. Did she know? Or had his questions made her suspect? Could she truly be that innocent?  
  
He reached out and awkwardly put a hand on her shoulder, in an attempt to comfort her. He hated it when a potion was used badly. When an innocent was harmed.  
  
"It's not a simple contraceptive as you think," he explained in a cold voice, a voice that carried overtones of "lecture" in it. "Whilst it is a contraceptive, it is highly dangerous. No decent apothecary would sell or even suggest it. It kills over time. It also removes any hope a woman has for conceiving a child."  
  
He felt her stiffen and removed his hand. She looked up at him incredulously. "Poison?" she asked.  
  
"In a way. It eats away at your reproductive organs and eventually.," his voice trailed off uncomfortably.  
  
"I've been taking it since I was sixteen," she said softly. She looked at him. "Will I die?"  
  
"No. I can brew you something that will stop the cramps and bleeding. And if you must use a contraceptive potion, I can give you something much better. Safer. You only need to drink it after sex."  
  
She laughed hollowly. "But if what you've said is right, then I probably don't need it."  
  
"No. I suspect not. Although you should see a doctor to confirm it."  
  
"Will you still brew the other for me?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
She had watched as he brewed, and he had been surprised by her questions, all intelligent inquiries about the ingredients and their properties. She'd also asked him to write it down for her in case she needed to brew it herself.  
  
From her perspective, Morgan was enthralled. This man was a true genius when dealing with potions. She could not see him measure or weigh anything; seemingly to know by instinct when he had the right amount.  
  
She watched him slicing the herbs, taking only minutes to do them all, when it would have taken her an hour or more to get them as fine as that (in fact, she probably would have used her food processor).  
  
They had had an argument about her kitchen and most of its expensive contents.  
  
"Do you call this a knife?" he asked scornfully, holding up one of her hideously expensive knives.  
  
"Yes," she said sarcastically, "I do call it a knife. So does the rest of the world. Perhaps you call it something else?"  
  
He snorted. "What I call it is dangerous. No edge, and the handle is far too flimsy. It'll never get through a spleen for example."  
  
"Gosh,' said Morgan, eyes widening, sarcasm dripping from her words, "You know I bet that the manufacturers never thought of that! They just thought they would make a good kitchen knife. Probably never even tested it on a spleen! How foolish of them."  
  
She thought she heard a chuckle at that. Did he actually have a sense of humour? Pilar had said he did, but it took a bit of getting used to. "You'll appreciate it, Morgan," she said earlier that evening on the phone, "it's very dry. Very hidden. But don't ever let yourself get into a position where he can tease you. On the other hand, if you ever do, make sure it's where Remus and I can see and hear. I want to see who comes off best."  
  
Next, he was looking irritably at her one cauldron that had held the other potion. "I can't use that for this," he said, "Not until it's been thoroughly cleaned and sterilised with magic as well as heat. Don't you have another?"  
  
Morgan shook her head and crouched down to her pot cupboard and pulled out a small enamel pan. "Will this do?" she asked.  
  
Severus looked at it with distaste. It was white with insane pink flowers all around the outside. "Definitely not," he said. "Pewter or silver for preference. Steel as a last resort. Don't you know anything?"  
  
She stood up and went over to a hook that held a set of cookware - another of her hideously expensive, impulse purchases. Morgan made yet another mental note to stop purchasing things on the internet.  
  
She held one of the pans out to him. "The very best Stainless Steel, with a copper base. Guaranteed to last a lifetime and a steal at only £25 each."  
  
He took the pot from her and examined it. Then looked at the others, and she watched him calculate the cost. Damn.  
  
His lips twitched slightly. "You've been ripped off," he said and turned around, but didn't put the pot down.  
  
"That one good enough for you, oh great Potions Master?" she asked.  
  
"It will serve." She wondered what he was looking for and then realised. The small getup she used herself to brew her potion was hardly big enough for that pot.  
  
"We call it a stove," she said pointing it out. "I'm quite proud of it - ceramic and flush with the counter tops. Nothing can get between the elements and it came with a lifetime guarantee."  
  
"How do you light it?"  
  
"You don't. At least, not if you want to keep breathing. It's electric."  
  
She showed him how to turn it on and adjust the heat. He filled the pot with water and stood back.  
  
"I thought you were going to brew a potion, not a cup of tea. But if you want one, it's easier to use the kettle." She nodded in the direction of the kettle.  
  
"I need to know the heating speed and average temperature," he said, "and the best way to do that is to boil water and see how long it takes."  
  
"Okay. Speed I get, but temperature?" she asked, fascinated.  
  
"The water will boil after a certain amount of time - the speed. The average temperature is also the speed, the higher the average temperature, and the shorter the time it will take to boil. Unless I know that, I can't regulate the potion correctly."  
  
"A lid will make it boil faster."  
  
"And make it impossible to add the ingredients correctly. The water must be boiled in the same conditions that the potion will be made to get the correct calculations."  
  
She slowly shook her head. "I never knew that. Was never taught that. Why?"  
  
He looked at her. "You went to Hogwarts?" She nodded. Could it be that he did not recognise her? "In schools, the Potions teacher always makes sure each day that each burner is regulated, and as the students are always using these, it's not necessary to teach the water trick. Unless they want to specialise in Potions, then it's covered in specialist lessons," He looked bitter for a moment. "Usually once a student leaves school, they only use the most simple of potions where the speed and temperature don't matter."  
  
Morgan felt a moment's pity for him - he truly did love potions, and she felt for the waste of his life that he was teaching those who did not appreciate his art. Her heart constricted in fear. Cannot be soft. Must be hard. She took refuge in her normal sarcastic attitude.  
  
"So Potions Masters learn to boil water," she said dryly. "Midwives must love you."  
  
She definitely caught the smile at that quip. "Well said," was his only comment, as he took the pan of boiling water off the stove and tipped it down the sink, pouring it over his hand as he did so.  
  
"Another trick?" she asked.  
  
He nodded. "It confirms the temperature."  
  
"But your hand - surely you get burned?"  
  
"Cast iron hands," he said. Morgan laughed herself at that - once again caught unaware by the flashes of personality she glimpsed.  
  
He put the pot back on the stove after carefully using a spell to dry the pot completely. "And now, Mrs Winter, if you will pass me the ingredients as I ask for them, I shall show you how to brew this potion."  
  
She sat at the other side of the island from him, the hotplates in between them, the neatly separated piles of herbs in front of her. "Shall you need a liquid to start?" she asked.  
  
He nodded. "Water is fine for this one. I'll add some honey later," he said.  
  
"Honey?"  
  
"Makes it taste better," he said absently, putting some water in the pan and looking around. "I don't suppose you have a wooden spoon?"  
  
"In the drawer to your left," she replied.  
  
He opened the draw and took out a wooden spoon, obviously approving of at least one thing in her kitchen.  
  
The brewing went well, and he only yelled at her once when she passed him the wrong herbs. She noticed that he always indicated which ones he wanted after that, not just name them.  
  
She was absolutely fascinated as she watched him. He was totally absorbed in the task, and seemingly so negligent, adding the herbs in handfuls or in tiny pinches - at one point he stirred the mixture and then seemed to taste it, pouring a tiny bit from the spoon into his palm and first smelling it, then his tongue darted out to taste.  
  
It had been one of the most erotic things she had ever seen.  
  
"Now we let it simmer," he said.  
  
Morgan came back to earth and shook herself. She couldn't help herself. "Do you cook too?" she asked.  
  
"I have been known to, on occasion. It's not too different from brewing a potion."  
  
Morgan looked incredulous. "You truly must be a nasty bastard then. You can cook, handle a knife like that; and now that you've been cleaned up, are not bad looking. Women kill for men like that."  
  
His faced took on an oddly closed expression. "I have no need for a wife - or any emotional entanglement, Mrs Winter," he said coldly.  
  
"Morgan, Severus. My name is Morgan. And if you can't use it, then you will place both our lives at risk," she said, looking him directly in the eyes this time and found it hard to look away.  
  
He nodded slowly, a little stunned by his reaction when she said his name. And wondered why he longed to hear it cross her lips again. "Morgan, then," was all he said.  
  
Morgan stood up, deliberately breaking the contact. She was confused - usually when she had this sort of sexual attraction to a man, by now they would be bonking like bunnies.  
  
But for some reason she couldn't explain, she didn't want just sex with this man. She wanted to know him and for him to know her. She wanted more than just an affair.  
  
Taking a deep breath, she went to the refrigerator and took a menu off it. They were working together. Okay. They were supposed to be portraying lovers. She could cope with that. He had to live in her home, but she couldn't afford the distractions sex with Severus Snape would cause.  
  
She knew that it would take all her skill to catch the people they were after, and to manage to get themselves out of it alive and undetected.  
  
Once again, she wished for a partner who was either a fellow Auror or a Detective. They knew the game. Knew the risks and would be able to look out for themselves. Not like this pampered Professor.  
  
"We should eat," she said, waving the menu at him, "this place is great, and they deliver. I could really go a good Satay."  
  
Snape looked interested. "You like Satay?" he asked. "What sort?"  
  
Morgan looked offended. "Cantonese, of course. Is there any other?" Snape shook his head. At least she had good taste in food.  
  
"Cantonese is the best, " he agreed, "although I met an Indonesian Wizard who made a terrific satay once. Pity he used it to try to poison me," he finished.  
  
Morgan's eyes twinkled. "Waste of a good Satay I should say," she rejoindered. "What happened to the Wizard?"  
  
"It was terribly sad," said Snape, his face blank, "he was forced to spend his remaining years cooking school dinners."  
  
Morgan couldn't help herself. She laughed loud and long. Pilar had been right about his sense of humour. She made the decision that she would never, ever get herself in a position where her sister and her husband would see her being teased by Snape.  
  
She wasn't actually sure she would come out on top. She realised, though, that she was craving the sort of intimacy that would cause such teasing.  
  
Severus Snape watched her phone the order through. He was completely astonished by this witch - a very powerful witch from all accounts - who managed to balance the Muggle and Wizarding worlds like she did.  
  
Seemingly living wholly in the Muggle world, using all its gadgets with ease, and yet from what Dumbledore had told him, she was a highly skilled Auror. One who had a reputation of being able to accurately cast and throw spells without always needing her wand to focus. A witch who was well on the way to being a Master herself, and one who seemed to stimulate his mind (and other areas) in ways he had not encountered for many years.  
  
He had been pleased she seemed to share his sense of humour, surprised at her interest in the potion he brewed for her, and gratified that they seemed to share the same taste in food (if the order she placed was anything to go by).  
  
He also knew of her reputation in other areas, and wondered if it was well deserved. He caught himself back from a desire to pull her hair down and run his hands through it. It's colour and the way it curled in long ringlets fascinated him. He wondered if it looked that insane when she first got up in the morning.  
  
The phone rang again, and as he checked and stirred the potion he couldn't help but to overhear her side of the conversation.  
  
"Sirius - how nice to hear from you!" Pleasure.  
  
"That would be great, but can I take a rain check? I've just had to start an assignment that will keep me tied up for a while." Pleasure - and regret?  
  
"Ok, when I've finished. I'll give you a call." Was that anticipation? "Yes. I definitely had fun. Most enjoyable, and I do look forward to a repeat performance." Now that was definitely sensual; he felt a surge of heat go through his body.  
  
Bad enough he had to listen to her flirting with Sirius Black on the phone, but obviously they had gone a bit further than just a simple date.  
  
Snape was confused. He had only met this woman today. Why did he feel so possessive?  
  
She put the phone down and turned back. "Sorry about that. Dinner will be here in about 15 minutes or so. Would you like a drink?"  
  
"What have you got?"  
  
"Well, I'm afraid I'm not much of a drinker. Most of my wine collection is at the country house I inherited from my late, unlamented husband. My sister and her husband say they appreciate it though," my god, I'm babbling, she thought, "So really all I have here is some unchilled champagne and a rather nice Australian white wine. Or diet coke, milk, juice."  
  
"The wine will be fine." Diet coke, he wondered, just what on earth is diet coke?  
  
She took a bottle of wine from the fridge, and got down two large wine glasses. "I had this first when I was in Australia," she said, "and liked it so much I bought a case. Very light, very dry, but somehow it always reminds me of Australia, all that sunshine. "  
  
He took a sip, and looked at the glass appreciatively. "Very nice," he agreed, "but before you drink that you should drink this potion."  
  
She made a face. "Would you like the honey now?" He nodded and she got the bottle of honey from the pantry.  
  
Snape poured some into the gently bubbling mixture, and stirred it quickly. "Do you have a glass for it?"  
  
Morgan handed him a glass from the cupboard and he measured the amount into it. "You only need this much - no more," he said, handing her the glass.  
  
Morgan took it, "How much is "this much"?" she asked.  
  
"About a cup."  
  
She took a cautious sip. Not bad. She could taste the herbs and honey and it rolled sweetly down her throat, soothing her stomach, which had already started to feel queasy. In fact, she actually felt hungry for food.  
  
"Not too bad," she said. "How often should I take it?"  
  
"For the next two weeks, once a day," he said. "After that, if you have it once a month, for the next twelve months, it should clear the worst of that garbage from your system. Unfortunately, it cannot repair the damage."  
  
Morgan nodded. There was definitely more to this man than meets the eye. 


	6. Establishing Desire

CHAPTER 5  
  
Snape woke early the next morning, momentarily confused by the unfamiliar surroundings. He sat up in the bed and looked around the room. It was obviously a room rarely used, the furnishings and colours bland. He remembered where he was and found himself wondering what Morgan's room was like.  
  
What she looked like when she woke up.  
  
He quenched those thoughts and rose, deciding that a shower was definitely in order.  
  
He found the bathroom easily enough and was soon relaxing in a hot shower. Morgan, who wandered in, obviously in search of her own shower, disturbed his pleasant reverie.  
  
She looked confused - her eyes widening at the man in the shower. The remembrance returned and she looked at him again, her lips curving into a slight smile.  
  
"Don't be long," she said, and left the bathroom.  
  
Outside, Morgan swore softly to herself, and her mind wandered back to the sight of the man in the shower. Her mouth went dry and she raised a hand to her throat. She smiled again and looked down at her naked body and giggled, remembering the look on his face. Definitely an interesting way to start the morning.  
  
Inside the bathroom, Snape wrenched the hot water tap off and finished his shower. How dare she wander round like that! He took several deep breaths, and found himself remembering the sight of her standing naked before him.  
  
He wondered if her skin was as silky as it looked, and he felt himself harden as he thought of her breasts. They were wonderful, full and high, the nipples temptingly rosy. He ached to touch them, ached to touch her. Ached to kiss her.  
  
He had to keep control.  
  
And he now knew what she looked like when she first got up in the morning. Wonderful. He wanted her badly.  
  
Breakfast was strained. Each person was aware of the other, each trying to keep control, each desiring.  
  
"What is the plan for today?" asked Snape, his voice clipped.  
  
"Nothing at all until the gallery opening this evening," said Morgan. "But we must spend the day firming up our cover." Oh my god, she thought, what have I just said?  
  
"In what way?" Thank god. He didn't seem to notice. She swallowed.  
  
"Deciding when and where we supposedly met. What your interest in Hawden will be. Making sure that we know enough about each other to play lovers successfully. For instance, do you drink tea or coffee for preference? How do you prefer it? Is there anything in particular you hate?"  
  
Snape looked at her. Did she have no idea how gorgeous she was sitting there with the sun turning her hair to a flaming aura? "Tea, black, no sugar. Coffee, white, 2 sugars. Red wine," he said. "Is there anything else?"  
  
Morgan chuckled. She felt that Severus Snape had just teased her for the first time. And had enjoyed it.  
  
"I'm just getting started."  
  
The rest of the day was busy, but at the end of it they had been surprised at just how much they had in common. They found that they shared taste in music and literature, although Snape found that Morgan was more widely read than he, and had gladly taken up her invitation to go through her bookshelves.  
  
They had also decided that they had met whilst on a walking holiday in the mountains. Morgan had been apologetic about that. "It's terribly "Goodbye Mr Chips" and all that, but it would have given us the time to actually talk when we met," she had said.  
  
He had been surprised when at four o'clock, she had brought the session to an end declaring she had to get ready.  
  
"But we don't have to be there until half seven," he had said.  
  
"I know - and that barely gives me enough time as it is," she stated firmly. "I have to have a shower, wash and style my hair, do my nails and makeup and then get dressed."  
  
Snape shook his head, amused. "You look fine to me," he said, the words slipping out before he could catch them, but the appreciation in his eyes apparent to her.  
  
He was surprised by the way her eyes glowed at the compliment, they way a slight blush stained her cheeks. "Thank you," she said simply.  
  
In the end, she was running behind, although in the brief glimpses he had had of her during the afternoon, he fully appreciated her preparations. He spent most of the afternoon reading, chuckling over a book recommendation of hers - "The Hitch Hikers Guide to the Galaxy," and finding it quirky enough to suit his sense of humour.  
  
He looked at the other titles in the series (and laughed again when he read it described as "a trilogy in five parts") and made a note to buy them for himself.  
  
His preparations were quicker than hers, and the only delay he had was to remind himself that there was no need to hide behind the camouflage of lank hair. He looked at himself in the mirror, for the first time in years seeing his face without it's usual curtain.  
  
It had been a long time, and he wasn't sure he had the strength to make the change permanent.  
  
He went back into the sitting room, taking up his reading (now onto the second book in the series), and looked up as Morgan entered.  
  
Snape's mouth went dry as he looked at her.  
  
Morgan had not really thought about the dress she wore, after all it was just one she had in her wardrobe.  
  
Snape, however, wondered if she had forgotten something. Like the rest of it.  
  
It was short, coming to mid-thigh, and sparkly, with a low-cut round neckline and no sleeves. She wore sheer black stockings, and high stilettos. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He looked at her again, at the flame of curls cascading over one shoulder, reaching almost to her waist at the front.  
  
"Haven't you forgotten something?" he asked, his mouth going dry again.  
  
Morgan looked down at herself, her arms opening. She frowned, and then smiled. "Yes! Thanks for reminding me," she said, and turned to the stools at the kitchen island.  
  
Snape nearly fell off the couch, and he again felt his desire rising. The dress had no back, the sides coming down to the top of her backside. He found himself wondering if he went over and looked down, just how much of her backside he would see.  
  
Morgan picked up the light scarf from the stools and draped it around her arms. At least it partially covered her, thought Snape.  
  
She looked at him critically. "Not too shabby, Severus. And I am sorry to keep you waiting. I had to re-do my nails after I smudged one," and she held out one of her hands.  
  
Her elegant nails had been painted a deep rich crimson, giving the impression of being dipped in blood. He found the whole thing strangely sensual, and wondered what those nails would feel like trailed over his skin.  
  
"How are we getting there?" he managed to get out.  
  
"Taxi. We can hail a cab downstairs. I hate calling for a mini-cab."  
  
She picked up her handbag, a frivolous spangled affair that looked too small to actually hold anything, and the keys to the flat, and they left. She held out the keys to him. "Can you look after these? I'm afraid that they won't fit in my purse too well. And they'll probably be safer in one of your pockets."  
  
He took them, and put them in one of the pockets inside his jacket, and they caught the lift to the ground.  
  
Fortunately, they had no trouble getting a cab, and they were whisked away towards Covent Garden, where the gallery was.  
  
"Now remember," said Morgan softly, "we're only a recent item so keep close, and it won't hurt to be a bit possessive. There will be both Wizards and Muggles there tonight, so follow my lead when speaking to them. To Muggles, I'll say that you are a Chemistry Professor. Wizards, however, will be impressed at your being Hogwarts Potions Master."  
  
"Will there be anybody there that I know?"  
  
"Not unless Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy turn up, but I doubt they will be there. Since You-Know-Who's return, he's been avoiding functions where there are Muggles. Pity though. Narcissa loves art, and she loves parties. Apart from that, there shouldn't be. And if there is, let me know so that I don't get any unpleasant surprises, and you take the lead when discussing us."  
  
He nodded, but was disturbed at the way she had mentioned the Malfoy's. How well did she know them?  
  
They arrived at the Gallery, the lights blazing through the large picture windows, and the inside packed with people.  
  
They entered, and a dark-haired woman pounced on Morgan. "Morgan, darling, so good to see you," she trilled.  
  
"Clarissa," said Morgan, and the two women "air-kissed", "it's lovely to see you as well."  
  
"And this is?"  
  
"Professor Severus Snape. A friend of mine."  
  
"Not The Professor Snape? From Hogwarts?"  
  
Morgan nodded. The Witch, Clarissa, held out her hand. "So honoured, Professor, to have you join us. I had no idea you were an art lover."  
  
Snape bowed over her hand. "Morgan insisted I come with her. She wanted her friends to meet me," he said, the implications of his words obvious.  
  
Clarissa looked at Morgan, who took the opportunity to lean back against Snape who put one hand on her shoulder. "Morgan, you are a sly one," said the witch and turned to greet the new arrivals.  
  
Morgan grabbed Snape's hand and led him through the crowd. "Well done, Severus," she said with satisfaction, and snagged a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. "Clarissa will ensure that the social world becomes fully aware of our circumstances. Now all we need to do tonight is to reinforce that." She turned and gazed up at him; to an outsider, there was nothing in her expression but adoration. Their conversation seeming to be that between two lovers. Her voice, however, was fierce. "Time to mingle, Severus. Grab a drink and come on."  
  
He took his own glass of champagne, and offered her his arm, feeling complete when she slipped her hand through it.  
  
Then he learned how to mingle.  
  
At the end of an hour, he thought that what he wanted most in the world was somewhere to sit down and a cold drink of water, and he marvelled at her stamina. Especially in those shoes.  
  
The only bright light in the evening was that he knew nobody. He had, however, been surprised that his own name and reputation were so well known. He scowled. Too well known for his liking.  
  
Then he realised Morgan had moved away, and looked around for her.  
  
He didn't have far to look. She was being monopolised by a tall man with curly brown hair and a goatee. He could see from this distance that she was tense. Picking up another two glasses of champagne, he wandered over.  
  
"Another drink, darling?" And he handed her the glass. She looked at him, and in her eyes he was surprised to see gratitude, and a tiny amount of fear. He felt himself tense.  
  
"Thank you Severus. Let me introduce you to Alexander Hawden. We've been having an absolutely fascinating chat. He is very keen on potions."  
  
So this was their prey. Snape was inclined to be contemptuous of this man, but remembered what was in the briefing on him.  
  
He was dangerous. And the one person that they had to convince beyond all doubt.  
  
He held out his hand to the other man. "Severus Snape," he said, as they shook hands. Then, deliberately, slowly, he put his arm around Morgan, allowing his hand to slide from the nape of her neck to the top of her skirt, then moving it around, his hand slipping inside the dress, and coming to rest, obviously to any observer, on her stomach.  
  
He saw the other man watch his action, and saw that his gaze was caught by the outline of his hand under Morgan's dress. Hawden looked up, and both of them could see the lust in his eyes, followed swiftly by a calculating glance at both of them. They could almost see the chain of thought, to see him wondering if Snape would be willing to work with him. Wondering just what else the couple in front of him would be willing to do with him.  
  
He was dangerous, all right. Very, very dangerous.  
  
Morgan had felt relief when Severus had come up, and accepted the drink gratefully, draining half of it quickly. To her surprise, she felt a flush of desire rise as she felt his hand run down her back, and into the front of her dress. Her breathing quickened and she wanted his hand to move lower, to the part of her that was begging for his touch. She had no idea that her thoughts were reflected in her eyes and the line of her body.  
  
Neither Morgan nor Snape had no idea that their body language was convincing Hawden of the fact of their cover - something he had been dubious about during the introduction - and the talk he had heard during the evening.  
  
Hawden continued to talk to them both, the conversation inconsequential, but establishing that they had things in common. Things that would want him to have more contact with them.  
  
The lust still flared in his eyes, and Morgan felt inexplicably safer when Snape's arm drew her closer to him.  
  
She relaxed against his body, and felt his desire for her flare. And saw Hawden's lust increase.  
  
She shivered. This was probably the most dangerous assignment she had ever been on.  
  
And she didn't know what she feared most - Hawden or her own desire for Severus Snape. 


	7. Living Together

CHAPTER 6  
  
The next month passed in a whirl - between the parties and the planning neither Snape nor Morgan got much chance to slow down. Each social event brought them closer into the circle that was centered on Hawden. Each time they met him, his hints became more and more broad, and they agreed that whilst some of the hints were related to their work, the other ones were definitely distasteful to them both.  
  
Morgan felt that the operation was going well. Already there had been arrests because of information they had gathered. The net was drawing closer and closer. She felt a surge of exultation as she closed in on her prey.  
  
Snape didn't know where they had to be, or whether the gathering would be magical or Muggle half the time, but he did know that he was enjoying himself. He enjoyed the matching of wits against their enemies. It was certainly different to his usual assignments for Dumbledore, and he enjoyed that difference.  
  
He agreed with Morgan that they were getting closer to the final stage of the plan, and he felt disappointment that their partnership would end shortly after that.  
  
All because of her.  
  
He found that he could tell where she was in a room without even catching sight of her. Found that he was able to read her body language, and realized with shock that she could also read his.  
  
More and more though, he found himself loving their conversations. When they would talk for hours about nothing and everything. Or the silences, when they spent time just reading. He had been pleased to find that she was as voracious a reader as he himself was.  
  
Their interests also merged in the areas of logic puzzles and crosswords. Pity she was so atrocious at them.  
  
Occasionally they would go to a movie, and he was surprised to find himself enjoying those movies (and once caught himself in an argument with her about the type of movie they would see).  
  
He also found himself carrying two or three extra handkerchiefs. Morgan had the most endearing habit of sobbing throughout movies, and inevitably had no hankie. He found the extra handkerchiefs were a small price to pay to avoid having his sleeve drenched.  
  
He did object, however, when she started to cry when watching commercials on TV for long distance telephone calls. That he felt, was just plain irrational.  
  
And all the time, each touch sent fire through them both.  
  
Each time he put his arm around her (and it had become their "trademark" when his hand slipped inside her dress when he put his arm around her) and felt her relax into his side, he fought down his desire. He fought down the thought that this was where she belonged.  
  
Her skin was like white silk, and he wanted to explore every part of it.  
  
For her part, Morgan was surprised at how "right" it felt being with him. Surprised at how well she seemed to fit into his body, always feeling comfort and gaining strength from his presence.  
  
It disturbed her, yet she welcomed the feeling.  
  
And both of them refused to admit their mutual attraction.  
  
All too quickly, the summer was coming to a close. They knew when school started, he would have to apparate between London and Hogwarts on weekends, and had arranged for that.  
  
Nobody would take any notice of it, but it would slow down their plans.  
  
And Morgan found herself missing him already. Wondering how lonely she would be during the week. Finding that his presence in her home had become the most natural thing in the world.  
  
She enjoyed their arguments. She accused him of leaving the toilet seat up - he accused her of using his razor to shave her legs. Neither could agree on where to squeeze a tube of toothpaste.  
  
For himself, Severus Snape wondered what Harry Potter and Sirius Black would say if they knew that they had been dropped off his top five list of dislikes. He grinned to himself as he wondered what their reaction would be to know that they had been pushed down the line by Supermarkets and Soap Operas!  
  
Morgan found herself deliberately provoking arguments just for the enjoyment of it, and found that he also seemed to enjoy the more absurd of their arguments.  
  
Both had thoroughly enjoyed the passionate argument they had had about the silly spells used in the TV show "Bewitched", then had both pulled up short when they realized that what they really wanted was each other.  
  
They had stopped, panting, and Morgan had seen in his eyes the desire that matched her own. The knowledge that they both wanted this argument to end in bed, the passion of sex taking over from the passion of their words.  
  
Both had been terrified at the realization, and they had separated hastily, each seeking their own room. Each spending a sleepless night trying to reconcile their feelings with their fears. Neither willing to admit that they were terrified of and yet yearned for those feelings.  
  
Things came to a head the night before he had to go back to Hogwarts. It was stinking hot, and Morgan had just stepped out of a cold shower. She slipped on a pair of shorts and a cotton shirt, not bothering to button it up, simply tying it firmly under her breasts, and wandered into the kitchen in search of a cool drink.  
  
She gratefully drank a glass of iced water and refilled her glass. She carried it over to the couch and sprawled at full length on it.  
  
Refreshed by her shower and the cold drink, she drifted off to sleep, squirming around on the couch to get comfortable.  
  
Forgetting that, for the moment, she did not live alone. Not realizing that her movements had opened the shirt, rendering the coverage it gave useless.  
  
And that was how Snape found her when he walked in, hot and tired. Frustrated because there would be a delay in obtaining some of the ingredients he would need for his classes.  
  
At first he did not notice the sleeping woman, and headed towards the kitchen for a cold drink. He turned from the refrigerator (how he loved that particular Muggle device) with the jug of iced water in his hand, and saw her asleep.  
  
He put the jug down heavily and walked over to the couch. At first, he gazed at her face, relaxed in sleep, and looking innocent. And still with that elusive familiarity. Something about her that he should remember. Should know.  
  
Something to do with Pilar, he thought, as he remembered his surprise when she had been named as a godmother to one of Pilar and Remus' twin daughters. Of course, that was nothing compared to his own shock when he had been asked to be godfather to young Heather Lupin.  
  
He looked at her again, seeking answers on her face, and, for the moment, finding none.  
  
Then he noticed the open shirt and caught his breath. Oh Morgan, he thought, how beautiful you are. And how I want you.  
  
He gazed down at her, and she opened her eyes, as if feeling his gaze on her. Her eyelids were heavy with sleep, and she smiled. "I was dreaming about you," she said lazily as she stretched, and he watched, mouth dry, as her movements lifted her breasts.  
  
At her words, he walked around the couch, and knelt beside her, unable to help himself. "Were you?"  
  
"Hmmm."  
  
His hands seemed to have a mind of their own, and he began to stroke her breasts. "Was it a nice dream?" he asked, unable to stop himself, needing to know if her dreams of him were as good as the ones he had about her.  
  
"Very nice," she said lazily, arching her back into his touch.  
  
Snape gazed at her, his hands continuing their rhythmical stroking. "That's nice," he said absently. "You have the most magnificent breasts," he said, his stroking becoming more urgent. He bent his head and took one into his mouth, and felt her sigh as he did so.  
  
He felt himself harden as he suckled her breasts, first one then the other. Morgan's breath was coming spasmodically as she felt the sensations of his mouth on her. She felt his hands stroking her waist, moving up and down her sides, and then stroking her breasts as he gazed at her.  
  
She wanted him to kiss her. Wanted him to make love to her. Instead, he bent his head again to her breasts, and she was lost.  
  
Lost in the delicious feel of his mouth, his hands. Her own hands reached for him, trying to draw him closer, wanting to feel his body, but he avoided her. Instead, her hands fell onto his shoulders, and she moaned as his mouth became more insistent.  
  
She felt him move, and felt his hand come to rest on her hip, pressing down and she raised her hips, wanting his hand to do more than rest there, wanting to feel his fingers and more inside her.  
  
Instead, there was just the light pressure, and the wonderful feel of his mouth on her breasts.  
  
Suddenly, her groping hand found him, felt his erection though his trousers, and she began to stroke and rub him, fumbling for the zip on his trousers to release him. His head rose as he gasped, and their eyes met.  
  
Desire meeting desire. He leant towards her, and seemed to catch himself just before he kissed her.  
  
If I don't kiss her, he thought, I can keep in control.  
  
His head bent towards her breasts again, his mind refusing to believe that he had already fought a losing battle for control. Morgan moaned even harder, and she finally managed to open his trousers, feeling his bare flesh in her hand. His mouth became more urgent, and she felt his reaction to their bare flesh touching.  
  
She knew that she was a sucker for this. She wondered how he had known how much she enjoyed having her breasts suckled. The reaction she always had, how it would drive her to climax. She felt the familiar feelings race through her, and her hips moved again, trying to make his hand press more firmly into her.  
  
His free hand moved, and he rubbed a finger under her bottom lip. Her tongue came out, swiping it. Then he moved the same hand to her breasts, the finger stroking along their underside, lightly pressing on each nipple.  
  
Morgan gasped, her stroking of his erection pausing with her reaction. She immediately started again, her stroking firmer, feeling enjoyment of this activity. Her own free hand, she cupped under one breast, supporting it as he lowered his head again.  
  
Her hand moved from her breast to behind his head, holding him in place as he worked. Morgan was lost in the licking and sucking feelings, and her own stroking of him becoming more frenzied.  
  
They were both moaning now, their breathing labored, and his hand on her hip also started to move, to stroke her in time with the movements of her hips.  
  
It seemed to go on for eternity, both completely absorbed, until their mutual climaxes caught them both by surprise and brought them back to their surroundings.  
  
Snape lifted his head suddenly, shocked by his own actions, embarrassed by what she had done to him, wondering how he must look. Embarrassed by the evidence of his pleasure splashed on her arm, staining the couch and rug.  
  
Morgan gazed up at him, her own eyes full of desire, and saw with pleasure the same desire in his. She moved, intending to surrender herself to this man, when she saw his face change.  
  
He stood and looked down at the woman on the couch, her whole body showing her desire. His face darkened as he realized how he had lost control of himself. How he had taken advantage of this woman, and fumbled with his clothing, trying desperately to cover himself.  
  
Feeling disgusted with himself, he turned abruptly and left the room.  
  
Morgan sat up and watched him leave, her heart turning over with despair. She had seen the disgust in his eyes replace the desire, and thought that it had been disgust of her.  
  
She had to get out of there. Had to get somewhere she could be away from him.  
  
Hastily, Morgan stood and went into her bedroom, changing to a simple shift. She needed her older sister - either one would do. Then remembered - Lucius. She could not go to Narcissa. That left her with only one choice. Pilar and Remus. Morgan gave a sob, and disappeared. 


	8. I disgust him!

CHAPTER 7  
  
She appeared on the front doorstep of her house, now known as "The Den", where her sister Pilar and her family lived. She had tears in her eyes as she stood there, for the first time in her life wanting a man who had rejected her.  
  
Loving a man.  
  
Morgan raised her hand and knocked, the tears now streaming down her face. She heard the noise of dogs barking, and hoped her sister would answer the door soon.  
  
To her dismay, it was Sirius Black who answered. He took one look at her face and swore to himself.  
  
He had no idea who had caused her this distress, but he was going to do something particularly nasty to them when he found out.  
  
Taking her arm, he drew her inside, and yelled for Pilar to come down. Morgan squirmed under his hand, trying desperately to hide her face, herself. Not wanting anybody but her sister to see her distress. Desperate to avoid the touch of any man. Fearful of their disgust of her.  
  
"For gods sake, Pilar. There's something wrong with Morgan."  
  
In the bedroom upstairs, Pilar heard the words and felt her heart turn over. She looked at the baby at her breast, unable at the moment to move. She turned to her husband, engaged in one of his favorite pastimes (watching her). "Remus, I can't go, " she said, her voice anxious, "bring her up here."  
  
He nodded, moving swiftly from the room. There must be something very wrong for Sirius to sound so distressed.  
  
When he reached the bottom of the steps he could see there was something badly wrong. Morgan was huddled against the wall crying. Sirius just looked confounded, as each time he tried to approach her, she pushed him away.  
  
"Morgan?" asked Remus, wondering what had happened to upset his usually even-keeled sister-in-law.  
  
"Oh Remus!" she wailed, throwing herself into his arms, and sobbing onto his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, and patted her head. "Pilar is upstairs feeding the pup - er - babies. She said to bring you up." He felt her nod, and supported her up the stairs, guiding her into the bedroom.  
  
"Morgan, whatever is the matter?" asked Pilar as they entered, her heart going out to the sobbing woman in her husband's arms.  
  
"Everything's so confusing, P. He hates me. Worse. I disgust him. I can't face him. Can't work with him. And I think I love him."  
  
At that, Morgan collapsed on the floor, burying her head in her sister's lap, and broke into a fresh round of sobs. Pilar looked up at her husband and took a deep breath. "Remus, can you please organise a nice cup of tea for us. Morgan and I need to talk," her voice tightly controlled as she tried to keep her sister from hearing the anger she was feeling. Somebody was going to pay for upsetting Morgan this badly.  
  
He nodded, deciding that whoever "he" was, he was going to have to do some explaining. Fast.  
  
The male members of the house had discovered that Pilar was not the only de Lisle woman who had a trick of creeping into your heart. In her own way, Morgan had also managed it. She had become part of the family, a group that was starting to be called the "wolf pack."  
  
And the Pack Leader was not pleased that one of his pack had been hurt.  
  
He went downstairs and found Sirius and Harry in the kitchen, and started to thump around with the kettle. He could have done it using magic, but he felt the need to thump things.  
  
Sirius looked at him. "So, will it be fists or wands?"  
  
"As soon as I find out who he bloody is, it'll be both," snarled Remus, sounding more like the wolf than his normal self, "and if what he's done to Morgan ends up upsetting Pilar, it'll be me going to Azkaban for murder."  
  
He pulled out his wand and aimed it at the kettle, intending to boil the water.  
  
The kettle exploded.  
  
Harry looked at both men, got up and filled a saucepan with water. "I think I'd better handle this," he said, "and you're going to have to replace that kettle or Pilar will want to know what happened."  
  
"I'll replace it," said Lupin, "but it felt damn good to blow something up."  
  
Harry finished making the tea, and the three males sat waiting for the females of the pack to make an appearance.  
  
When they finally did, the tea had been re-made twice, and they had fed all of the puppies. Both women looked exhausted. Morgan's face was still tear streaked, and Pilar had a set look about her lips.  
  
She sat Morgan down at the table and poured her a cup of tea. Then she looked at her husband. "I have to go to London," she said grimly, "look after the children."  
  
Remus crossed over to her, and moved to put his arm around her, but her raised hand stopped him. "Don't touch me, Remus. Just now, I'm not safe."  
  
He nodded. "When will you be back?"  
  
"I shouldn't be too long," she paused. "I may be bringing a guest back with me. Promise me that you and Sirius won't hurt him."  
  
Remus stood straighter. "I'm not sure I can do that."  
  
Pilar softened, and kissed him gently. "I love you," she said. "Please, promise me. For Morgan's sake."  
  
He looked grumpy. "Can you give me a good reason why?"  
  
Pilar looked amused. "Well, whatever I say, you will want to hurt him anyway. But I think that he will be feeling as bad as Morgan at the moment. And I think that what he's feeling for her is as strange to him as her feelings for him are to her. But somehow, if we can stop them from killing each other, they may just be as happy as us in the end."  
  
"It's a reason. Not a good one, mind, but a reason. If I can somehow make it make sense. If he hurts our Morgan again though, I won't be held to any promises."  
  
"If he hurts our Morgan like this again, you won't get a look in." With those words, Pilar disapparated.  
  
When she appeared in the living room of Morgan's flat she looked around, marveling at the fact that such strong emotions had left no mark. Then she noticed the figure slumped on the couch, his head in his hands.  
  
"Severus."  
  
He looked up, and she saw despair. She looked at the man, and realized she had never seen him look like this before. His eyes were haunted, and he looked grim.  
  
Pilar recognized the look. She remembered it on her own face when she and Remus had been separated.  
  
And she saw the confusion in his face. The unyielding pride, and the determination to not let anything he felt show.  
  
Then in a flash, it was gone. His face became the usual hard surface.  
  
"Well, if it isn't Mrs Lupin," he said mockingly, "what the bloody hell do you want?"  
  
Pilar shook her head. "It won't work with me, Severus. I've been there, remember."  
  
"I have no idea what you are talking about."  
  
"Morgan. She arrived at home, nearing collapse. I've had her wailing for the last few hours, sobbing that you hate her, that she disgusts you. Blaming herself."  
  
He was startled at that. "But I don't!" He stopped and put his face back in his hands, trying to grasp the control he had always had, and failing miserably. "I still don't see why it's any of your business," he said finally, his voice hoarse with the raw emotions that still coursed through him.  
  
"Morgan is my younger sister. I thought you knew that?"  
  
"She never mentioned it. So, Morgan has gone home to her big sister. How mature."  
  
"I can understand why she thinks you hate her. As for myself, quite frankly, at this moment I could kill you without a second thought, you bastard."  
  
"I don't hate her. I hate myself for what I did to her. For losing control. And you're right. I am an evil-tempered bastard and nothing will change that. But I never meant to hurt Morgan."  
  
Pilar sat down in one of the armchairs and rested her chin on her clasped hands.  
  
"Suppose you tell me your version then." 


	9. Husband and Wife discussions

CHAPTER 9  
  
Morgan was congratulating herself on the way the job was progressing by indulging in a huge mug of hot chocolate and cake in her favorite place - the Savoy. She leaned back and smiled to herself - despite her misgivings, she and Snape had made a formidable team.  
  
She was frightened at times at the way they seemed to be able to read each other's mind and body language. If only she could stop her hormones raging out of control around him. "If I don't have to kiss him," she thought, "I can keep in control."  
  
A man sat down in the chair next to her and she started slightly. Hawden.  
  
"Severus let you out on your own?" he asked casually, his hand resting on her leg.  
  
Morgan picked up his hand and placed it on the table. "Severus is at work," she said, "as you are well aware."  
  
"Ahh yes - teaching Potions at Hogwarts," the man paused, "I would like to discuss a proposition with him. Can you set up a meeting?"  
  
Morgan looked at him coolly - inwardly she was jumping with glee. Hooked! "I suppose I could. I will be visiting this weekend and can speak to him then. Perhaps one evening?"  
  
Hawden looked at her. "Next Thursday - 9.00pm - my office," he said. He then paused, and ran his finger down the side of her face, down her throat and lingering at the opening of her shirt. "Perhaps you and I could also meet privately - at my home."  
  
Morgan stood up. This leech had quite spoiled her indulgence. "I would advise against any further propositions of that sort. You have absolutely no idea how dangerous it would be to your health," she said.  
  
Hawden laughed. "Funny, he didn't seem the overly possessive type."  
  
"Who said I was talking about Severus? Now that you mention it, though, you have no idea how possessive he is. He knows I won't stray - but does tend to take a rather dim view of those who, shall we say, try to tempt me."  
  
With that, she turned and left. Next Thursday. She'd have to send an Owl to Severus and let him know - both that she would be there this weekend (Morgan had no illusions that there would be "watchers" to ensure she was telling the truth), and to let both him and Dumbledore know that the next step was happening.  
  
Walking swiftly she went through the lobby of the Savoy towards the ladies toilets. Stepping inside a cubicle, she dissapparated. Time was short - she had to act quickly.  
  
Morgan re-appeared outside the Owl Office in Diagon Alley and went inside - tearing a page from her notebook for the note. She scrawled the basics and bought an envelope that she addressed. As she did so, she wondered what sort of stir it would cause, and contemplated scenting it - just to annoy him. What the hell. She pulled out her perfume atomizer and sprayed a corner of the note, and the inside of the envelope.  
  
The clerk grimaced when he saw the addressee and smelt the perfume. "This must get to Hogwarts by Friday," she said.  
  
He paused. "Be difficult," he said finally, "You'll have to pay extra for an express Owl."  
  
Morgan nodded. "Fine," she said, and handed over the price he asked, "just you make sure that it gets there - after all, Professor Snape is expecting this - and you don't want to have to explain to him why he didn't get it."  
  
She watched the clerk go pale. Amazing - even here Severus had a reputation! 


	10. Meeting

CHAPTER 9  
  
Morgan was congratulating herself on the way the job was progressing by indulging in a huge mug of hot chocolate and cake in her favorite place - the Savoy. She leaned back and smiled to herself - despite her misgivings, she and Snape had made a formidable team.  
  
She was frightened at times at the way they seemed to be able to read each other's mind and body language. If only she could stop her hormones raging out of control around him. "If I don't have to kiss him," she thought, "I can keep in control."  
  
A man sat down in the chair next to her and she started slightly. Hawden.  
  
"Severus let you out on your own?" he asked casually, his hand resting on her leg.  
  
Morgan picked up his hand and placed it on the table. "Severus is at work," she said, "as you are well aware."  
  
"Ahh yes - teaching Potions at Hogwarts," the man paused, "I would like to discuss a proposition with him. Can you set up a meeting?"  
  
Morgan looked at him coolly - inwardly she was jumping with glee. Hooked! "I suppose I could. I will be visiting this weekend and can speak to him then. Perhaps one evening?"  
  
Hawden looked at her. "Next Thursday - 9.00pm - my office," he said. He then paused, and ran his finger down the side of her face, down her throat and lingering at the opening of her shirt. "Perhaps you and I could also meet privately - at my home."  
  
Morgan stood up. This leech had quite spoiled her indulgence. "I would advise against any further propositions of that sort. You have absolutely no idea how dangerous it would be to your health," she said.  
  
Hawden laughed. "Funny, he didn't seem the overly possessive type."  
  
"Who said I was talking about Severus? Now that you mention it, though, you have no idea how possessive he is. He knows I won't stray - but does tend to take a rather dim view of those who, shall we say, try to tempt me."  
  
With that, she turned and left. Next Thursday. She'd have to send an Owl to Severus and let him know - both that she would be there this weekend (Morgan had no illusions that there would be "watchers" to ensure she was telling the truth), and to let both him and Dumbledore know that the next step was happening.  
  
Walking swiftly she went through the lobby of the Savoy towards the ladies toilets. Stepping inside a cubicle, she dissapparated. Time was short - she had to act quickly.  
  
Morgan re-appeared outside the Owl Office in Diagon Alley and went inside - tearing a page from her notebook for the note. She scrawled the basics and bought an envelope that she addressed. As she did so, she wondered what sort of stir it would cause, and contemplated scenting it - just to annoy him. What the hell. She pulled out her perfume atomizer and sprayed a corner of the note, and the inside of the envelope.  
  
The clerk grimaced when he saw the addressee and smelt the perfume. "This must get to Hogwarts by Friday," she said.  
  
He paused. "Be difficult," he said finally, "You'll have to pay extra for an express Owl."  
  
Morgan nodded. "Fine," she said, and handed over the price he asked, "just you make sure that it gets there - after all, Professor Snape is expecting this - and you don't want to have to explain to him why he didn't get it."  
  
She watched the clerk go pale. Amazing - even here Severus had a reputation! 


	11. In the Quadrangle

CHAPTER 10  
  
Morgan stepped out of the Malfoy carriage after Narcissa and Lucius. Thank God that trip was over! She had almost forgotten how much she disliked this particular brother-in-law.  
  
She saw Draco with his parents and opened her arms. He stepped into her hug and smirked. This Aunt, at least, was going to make him the envy of the male population of the school. He looked at her - and privately agreed with a comment he had heard Sirius Black make about her when he had visited The Den. She really was Sex on Legs.  
  
"Looking good, Aunt Morgan," he said approvingly, "especially the colour scheme."  
  
Morgan laughed. She had chosen her clothes carefully - deciding that she would wear the colours of her House. "Thanks, Draco," she said, "so glad you approve. Tell me - are Slytherin going to win the match?"  
  
"Naturally."  
  
"The Gryffindor seeker notwithstanding?"  
  
Draco looked uncomfortable. "Problems, Draco?" asked Morgan.  
  
Draco nodded. "Can I talk to you sometime? Alone?" he asked, hugging her again.  
  
Morgan put her arms around her nephew. "I'll come and get you," she promised. "Tonight. I know that I can get leave for you," she laughed softly, and stepped away.  
  
Snape watched her and wondered what the business with Draco was about. The boy looked troubled, and Morgan serious. He watched as she turned and caught sight of him, smiling and raising her hand.  
  
As she walked towards him he found himself admiring her, at the same time wishing she'd eat more, another few pounds would only enhance her looks. Her choice of clothes today, however, made the lack of flesh less apparent. The tight black trousers and boots, teamed with the green jumper suited her. Then he chuckled as he realized she was also wearing a Slytherin house scarf. He bet if he checked she would have her house badge as well.  
  
Morgan walked gracefully towards him and held out her hands. Against his will, he found himself taking them and enfolding her in his arms. 'If I don't kiss her," he thought, "I can keep in control." But it was hard. More than anything, he wanted to kiss her - and he didn't care who saw. After all, he could see the shock on some faces at the embrace. He tightened his arms, and felt her arms tighten in return. God, he wanted her. Ever since he had first laid eyes on her, he had wanted her. He could feel himself hardening and when she moved slightly, knew she could feel it too.  
  
Morgan sighed as he pulled her into his arms. Bliss. If only she could be sure he really wanted this. If only he wanted her as much as she wanted him. If only he loved her as much as she loved him. If only. She wished he would kiss her. She felt him harden and moved involuntarily against that hardness, needing it against her. Needing him inside her. Needing him. She looked up at his face, and her own eyes darkened as she saw the desire in his.  
  
This time, neither of them tried to look away, blue and black eyes drowning in the emotions they revealed.  
  
With a sigh, Severus and Morgan surrendered to the inevitable. In the middle of the quadrangle at Hogwarts, with most of the school looking on, he kissed her. His hands pulled her closer to him - one moving to the back of her head - pulling her as close as he could. She grasped him and her hands roamed over his back, caressing and light. He swore he could feel her nails through his clothing.  
  
Morgan's arms moved until she grasped him around the neck, pulling his head down towards hers, she opened her mouth and felt his tongue sliding over hers, and she responded to his touch. Deliberately, she deepened the kiss, desperate that it would not end.  
  
Desperate that he would make love to her. He would definitely not throw her out of his bed tonight, she decided. Finally - she would be where she wanted to be. And had wanted to be since she was seventeen.  
  
Of course, the reactions around them finally intruded onto them. The silence was deafening.  
  
As they broke apart, Morgan started to giggle at the faces around them- including those of both sisters and their husbands, and the two boys she thought of as "nephews" - one by birth, one by the fact he lived with P. Draco and Harry - united for once in astonishment and a vague feeling of disappointment.  
  
They looked at each other - for once standing together. "How could she," fumed Draco, at the same time as Harry said, "I thought Morgan had taste!"  
  
Behind them, Sirius Black spoke grimly. "Bad taste, obviously," he said, with a self-mocking laugh. Lupin punched him on the arm. "Finally. Pilar will be pleased - she was getting annoyed with the pair of them."  
  
The two boys and Black looked at Lupin "Pardon?" said Draco. "Aunt Pilar knew? And approves? Snape and Aunt Morgan? I think I'm going to be sick."  
  
Lupin looked at his wife's nephew. "Morgan has been agonizing to Pilar for weeks. She's disappointed though," and he looked at Sirius, "She'd been hoping that you and Morgan would get together," he confessed.  
  
Morgan felt she couldn't take her eyes off of Severus. Held in his embrace, she felt at home - like she belonged there.  
  
As for himself, Severus Snape didn't want to let her go. He liked the way she felt in his arms - liked the way she fit into his body. Liked the way she tasted. He wanted to taste her more - and wondered where she was sleeping that night. With shock, he admitted to himself that he hoped it would be with him. He then surprised himself further by deciding that it would definitely be with him.  
  
The reaction of the rest of the school could be summed up in two conversations - one between males and one between females.  
  
The male reaction could be summed up by Ron Weasley's words. "Now that's put me off my dinner," he said to Neville Longbottom. "It's bad enough that she's gorgeous and Malfoy's Aunt - but what's she see in Snape?"  
  
Seamus Finnigan who was standing nearby turned "Good in bed?" he suggested.  
  
Ron shuddered - "Now I really feel sick. Imagine Snape having a good hard shag! I wonder if he gives her detention if she's not good enough?"  
  
Neville looked at him "How would he know?"  
  
Ron patted him on the shoulder. "Never mind, Neville," he said, "My brother Bill has mentioned Morgan Winter before, and I don't think her being bad in bed will be a problem."  
  
The females reflected a conversation between Hermione Granger and Pansy Parkinson who happened to be nearby.  
  
"How romantic," sighed Pansy enviously, "imagine him being brave enough to kiss her in front of the whole school!"  
  
Hermione nodded. "But what on earth does she see in Snape?"  
  
"Who knows? Who cares."  
  
The two girls looked at each other, envying Morgan - not her choice of man - but of her essential self showing in their faces. "I wish I was her," they both sighed.  
  
Both Morgan and Snape were dazed. They had been stepping around each other for months now - only once had they let the "game" merge with reality. The results had frightened them both.  
  
And now they had done it again - the embrace had been for the "watchers" - had the kiss too?  
  
Dumbledore looked at them both, still locked together. He watched as Morgan's face started to match the colour of her hair. "Well, well, well," he thought, "who would have thought that this couple would come together?"  
  
He walked away and Morgan and Snape reluctantly separated - although they kept close enough to brush against each other.  
  
At that point, Pilar dragged Lupin up to them. "Well, finally!" she said grumpily, hugging Morgan, "I've been tired of watching the pair of you pussy-foot around."  
  
Lupin looked at them both and shrugged. "Indulge her," he said gently. "She's a bit tired - the twins are not sleeping well."  
  
Morgan looked around, "Where are they?" she asked, "I really do want to see my nieces."  
  
"They're inside," said Pilar, "You didn't think I'd bring them out in this cold, did you?"  
  
At that, Morgan put her arm through her sister's and dragged her towards Narcissa. "Let's grab 'Cis and go and do some baby worship," she said.  
  
Narcissa Malfoy looked at the embracing couple. Disgusting - in public! And him a teacher! Then she softened. Perhaps this was the man her baby sister needed to tame her. And perhaps her baby sister would make him a little more human.  
  
Lucius Malfoy's eyes narrowed. So, what Hawden had told him was true. Morgan and Snape were lovers. He had not believed that - nor had he believed it when he had been told that Morgan had agreed to arrange a meeting between Snape and Hawden. He would have bet his life that Morgan was not part of the same "circle" as him - would have bet even more that Snape had defected years ago.  
  
Had his Master not told him everything?  
  
Neither Morgan nor Snape noticed Professor Dumbledore until he spoke.  
  
"Nice to see you again, Morgana," he said, stopping her movement towards Narcissa. "I take it things are going well?"  
  
Morgan blinked, bringing her mind back to earth. "Yes, better than expected."  
  
"Excellent. I shall see you both in my study after the match," said the Headmaster.  
  
The match that afternoon was between Slytherin and Gryffindor. The two teams were very evenly matched - and Morgan could see that it would be a hard tussle - coming down to the catch of the snitch.  
  
As for her, it had been years since she had enjoyed herself this much. The members of Slytherin House had been taken back when she accompanied Snape into their grandstand - especially since she was wearing her old school scarf and house badge (Snape had been right about her having it).  
  
Snape noticed a change about her. She was being aggressively female - and he recognized the breed. She was a true "Slyth-Chick" as they were called. He'd forgotten what they were like - for the last 10 years or so, he had not seen a true Slyth-Chick - just the pale copies that seemed to embody the bad traits and none of the good. He looked closely at her. She must have the tattoo somewhere, he thought, certain now that she would have been a Queen Slyth. He felt a frison move through him as he felt his own tattoo respond to her. That had been part of his attraction to her - the normal reaction of a male Slytherin to the Queen.  
  
He wished he could explain the rest of it so easily.  
  
Watching her, he was transported back to his own schooldays, and to his early teaching career. Watching her, he realised that she was probably the last great Queen Slyth - she had the guts, the looks, and the style, along with the aggressive femininity that tended to play havoc with the male population.  
  
He remembered his own fifth year, when the reigning Queen Slyth had, to all intents and purposes, given him an education of her own, and had admitted him to her court, giving him the right to the tattoo he wore proudly. He still thought fondly of her - and looked at her son - currently a student of the school and, like his mother, a Slytherin. He wondered if the boy knew that his mother had been responsible for the "education" of many of his friend's fathers. Probably not.  
  
He also chuckled at himself as Pansy Parkinson and her friends tried to imitate Morgan. It would never work - they were tarts - none of them had her style. They had a long way to go before he would ever grant them the title of Slyth-Chick - even though they used the term themselves.  
  
Live and learn, you stupid girls, he thought. Live and Learn.  
  
At that point, Slytherin made a rather spectacular save, and Morgan turned back to him, flushed with excitement. Her eyes sparkled and she grinned. But in her eyes, he saw the desire that he knew burned in his own, and knew that after today, everything would be different between them.  
  
Morgan saw the admiration in Snape's eyes - even though to all intents and purposes, she was concentrating on the game. She had also been scrutinising the members of Slytherin house - and found them wanting.  
  
She sat back down next to Snape, and slipped her arms through his. He looked down at her.  
  
"Slyth-Chick," he said.  
  
She grinned. "In person. And dammed proud to be one. In fact, in my seventh year I was Queen Slyth."  
  
"Why am I not surprised? Where does yours hide?"  
  
She smiled wickedly. "Oh, you'd be very surprised at what I did in my seventh year." She grinned again. "And you'll have to find her yourself. You know the rules."  
  
Then she jumped up and was screaming as Draco and Harry Potter raced down the field, in hot pursuit of the Snitch. Draco suddenly made a grab, and pulled up - his arm held triumphantly in the air. He'd caught the Snitch - just inches ahead of Harry.  
  
As Harry zoomed up beside him, Draco couldn't help himself, and grinned at Harry - who grinned back and reached over to shake his hand.  
  
Dimly in the background, Draco heard the chant of "Slytherin, Slytherin" - and marvelled. His house was genuinely cheering - not taunting Gryffindor. He turned and saw his redheaded Aunt going mad in the stands, and grinned with Harry again.  
  
Both of them knew Morgan - and could guess that she was the instigator. In her, both Harry and Draco saw that Slytherin did not have to mean bad. In Morgan Winter, they, and the rest of the school, saw embodied the best of Slytherin.  
  
Draco felt his heart lighten - surely his Aunt could help him. With her help, he could find the strength to stand up to his father.  
  
Harry grinned and searched the Gryffindor stands. Sure enough, there was Sirius waving at him, and next to him, Pilar seemed to be sobbing on Remus' shoulder. Idly he wondered if she was pregnant again - honestly the woman seemed to cry at anything these days! Then he paused - she couldn't be - the twins were only five months old.  
  
Narcissa watched her sister and wished she could abandon being "Mrs Lucius Malfoy" just long enough to join her sisters' display of pride and happiness. Draco, Her son!, had just won a Quidditch Match against Gryffindor. And did it without any dirty tricks. She thought her heart would burst with pride.  
  
Dumbledore and McGonagall watched Morgan's display and smiled. They remembered Morgana de Lisle well - and wondered when Severus would also remember her. It was obvious he had never connected the two - even if he remembered it was she. 


End file.
